


Fixated on Your Vertigree

by ididthatonce



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fuck Or Die, Mildly Dubious Consent, Oral Sex, Riding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-06-19 04:50:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15502674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ididthatonce/pseuds/ididthatonce
Summary: Bruce has made some errors in an experiment, and Natasha is the only one who can fix it.  Typical fuck-or-die fic with very little build-up.





	Fixated on Your Vertigree

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place shortly after the events of Infinity War. Very mild spoilers, avoid if you don't wanna know who wins the Boss Fight. Also, I finished this at like 11 PM and have not edited it so, like, sorry.

Steve nearly kicked down the door to the meeting room where Natasha and Thor were talking animatedly about a particular Asgardian delicacy she was hoping to recreate.  “Nat,” he interrupted, “we need you in the med bay immediately.” She nodded and jogged to the requested area, following two steps behind Steve, swallowing her questions.

 

Even at top speed, the trip down two floors took about ten minutes.  Natasha mentally catalogued all the worst-case scenarios. Was someone dead?  Was there a plague? Zombie outbreak? Had Thanos come back for more? But in every situation, she couldn’t understand the logic of bringing her, specifically, to the small-but-high-tech medical suite.  She willed herself to focus on something else instead, lasering her mind on the blister forming on her pinky toe.

 

After an excruciating few minutes, they arrived at the med bay.  The doctor on duty, a plump brunette woman with tortoiseshell-framed glasses, greeted them with a weak smile.  “Agent Romanova. Thank you for coming at such short notice.” She stated. “I’m afraid that we have run into a rather unfortunate situation that requires immediate assistance.”  Her eyes darted from Steve to Natasha, then to her clipboard. “Regarding Agent Banner,” she added.

 

Natasha suppressed an uncomfortable laugh.  Things had been incredibly awkward with Bruce since his return to Earth.  Saving the world (or the failure thereof) had taken a front seat, mercifully preventing them from having The Conversation.  She knew that Bruce had developed feelings for her (after all, what kind of a spy would she be if she couldn’t suss that out?).  She was still trying to tell if she was falling for him, and it was a psychological work in progress. They hadn’t even had a conversation beyond a “how are you.”  Whatever was happening with Bruce, she hoped that she would not have to talk to him to do her part.

 

Which led her to her part.  The doctor had been talking, and was staring at Natasha expectly.  She shook her head. “I’m sorry, could you repeat that?”

 

The doctor turned to Steve and waved her hand at him.  “I need to talk to Agent Romanova alone, please.” she demanded.  Steve shrugged his shoulders and shot a glance at Natasha before making his way to the glass-walled appointment room where they had all had their intake physicals.  Once he was sufficiently out of earshot, the doctor turned to Natasha. I’m going to be frank with you. Agent Banner has been involved in a very bad accident and needs your assistance.”

 

Natasha’s heart dropped.  “What happened?”

 

The doctor adjusted her glasses and read from her chart.  “I’m sure you’re aware, Agent Romanova, that Agent Banner has been experiencing problems with the transition between his human and superhuman forms.”  She stated what was probably supposed to be a question. Natasha nodded. “Well, Agent Banner has been running tests, and believes that the problem may be related to blood flow and hypertension.  As a result, he has been experimenting with Sildenafil, and it has been somewhat successful. However, it has also resulted in severe several side effects, which is why we’ve brought you here. Are you familiar with Sildenafil?”  She asked.

 

Natasha nodded.  “I’ve used it a few times in missions.  Improves blood flow with the added bonus of helping maintain sexual arousal.”  She recited mechanically.

 

The doctor continued.  “Unfortunately, Agent Banner has experienced difficulty in the sexual arousal department.  He has achieved arousal and has heretofore been unable to reduce it . As a result, his blood pressure has peaked and he has reached superhuman state.  He will remain in that state until the arousal is eliminated. I’m afraid that it’s an urgent matter, and he’s got maybe three hours before it becomes crintical.”

 

Natasha squinted.  “I’m not sure that I understand.  So Bruce was experimenting with Viagra, and it made him go Hulk?”

 

“Yes.”  The doctor replied, voice barely above a whisper.

 

“And he won’t de-hulk until he…” she stopped to considered her words.  Then, realizing the reality of the situation, decided not to be subtle.  “Until he blows a load and loses his erection.”

 

“Yes.”  The doctor whispered.

 

Natasha shifted from foot to foot.  “I guess I don’t understand why I’m needed.  Can’t he just,” she made a pumping motion with her hand, “handle it himself?”  She willed herself not to blush, given the fact that she was discussing Bruce’s masturbatory skills.

 

The doctor screwed up her face.  “He’s tried. For about two hours now.”  Natasha had a sudden image of Bruce jerking himself off for hours and willed herself to lock it away in her spank bank.  “He’s exhausted and going in and out of consciousness. There does not appear to be any other way.”

 

“Why me?”  Natasha asked, a little more vulnerable than she expected.

 

“You’re the only woman here.”  The doctor responded, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.  Natasha pointed at the doctor, who added, “The only woman who is theoretically physically capable of facing Agent Banner in his Hulk form.”

 

“Wouldn’t Cap or Thor be a better physical equivalent?”  Natasha replied. She had a suspicion what the answer was, but needed to hear it said out loud.  The doctor crossed her arms and clenched her jaw.

 

“He asked for you.  He didn’t want me to tell you that, but it’s the truth.  He asked for you, Agent Romanova.”

 

Not five minutes later, the doctor was leading Natasha to the observation wing of the infirmary, into the white-walled room where Bruce was laying.  He was sleeping, halfway Hulk-ed out, his face just on the green side of olive. His head took up two pillows, and his forearm was wider than Natasha’s waist.  Even still, he looked surprisingly peaceful. His large chest fluttered with every deep breath he took. His eyes darted underneath his eyelids, and a hand the size of a sheet pan balled up a fist and released it.  Natasha’s heart ached upon the realization that he was probably having a nightmare.

 

“I will be just outside the door in case of an emergency.”  The doctor interrupted. “Dr. Sanchez is on the next shift, and he will take my place at 6 AM.  Any questions?”

 

Natasha wanted to ask a million questions, starting with “what the Hell,” but decided on something more concrete.  “I assume there are restraints and plans if he wakes up?”

 

The doctor made an assenting noise.  “There are high-powered elecromagnetic cuffs on his hands and feet that should keep him in place if need be.”

 

“Kinky.”  Natasha grinned.  The doctor backed out of the room, and the door clicked quietly behind her.

 

Bruce was still asleep, but he was squirming in his sleep.  Natasha took the opportunity to take stock of the situation.  Bruce was covered in a thin cotton sheet up to his chest. The bed he was on was really more of a queen-sized cot, and Natasha wondered how it was possibly holding up his weight.  Meanwhile, the cuffs had his arms pulled slightly above waist level and his hands close to the wall. His shoulders were bare, and Natasha assumed that he was completely naked. She considered peeling back the sheet, but decided to wake him first for a chat.

 

Borderline consent wasn’t really her style.

 

She laid a hand gently on his bicep.  “Hey Bruce,” she whispered, squeezing lightly.  “Bruce it’s me, Nat. Wake up.”

 

His eyes opened partway.  She could see that the eyes were still Bruce even if the body was mostly Hulk.  She had always felt bad for him, a brilliant mind caught in a monster’s body, unable to control himself.  Her heart hurt.

 

“Bruce, are you in there?”  She asked. He grunted in response.  “I’m here to help you. Is that okay?”  she offered gently. His arm raised and then lowered, and his eyes squinted in anguish.  He seemed to be past words. Natasha chose her words carefully, “Bruce, blink twice if you recognize me.”  He blinked twice and she smiled at him. She rubbed her hand up and down his arm. “Blink once if you understand what I’m here to do.”  He blinked once, slowly. “Blink twice if you still want me to help you.” He blinked twice.

 

She took a deep breath and slowly pulled back the sheet.  His chest was landscaped with a layer of coarse, black hair.  His skin was still olive-toned, becoming more and more green while she watched.  His nipples were a deep army green, and had grown to the size of silver dollars. She traced her fingers across one as she continued pulling the sheet back.  More and more green skin was revealed as she pulled: taut stomach muscles, a belly button, jagged hipbones. As she neared his lower stomach, black hair appeared underneath the sheet, which was clearly tented the lower she went.

 

Finally, she uncovered his member, letting out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.  Although she had no idea what he looked like between the legs as Bruce, she had to assume that he was much larger in Hulk form.  His staff was standing upright at a 90-degree angle. It was roughly the size and width of her own forearm, and a paler complexion than the rest of his body.  The head was glistening with moisture, and flushed red. A thatch of black hair surrounded it, and the smell of sweat and sex hung in the air. She ran a single finger up the underside of his dick, and he let out a shiver.

 

She pulled the sheet all the way off and continued raking in the sight of him.  His testicles were pulled in tight to his body. She normally hated the look of balls, but she rather liked his: gently dusted in dark hair, darker skin, soft to the touch.  He let out a soft roar when she cupped one in her hands to feel its heat. His thighs were large, muscular, dangerous. Even his calves and feet were sexy, she thought, with smooth skin and muscles rippling in places she didn’t even know there were muscles.

 

She slid a hand up his thigh, and he made an inhuman noise as the contact.  Jumping over a leg, she sat herself between his thighs. His body was radiating heat, and she couldn’t tell if the moisture between her legs was arousal or sweat.  She braced herself, a hand pressed into each hip. She glanced up at him, one last question before she crossed the boundary.

 

“Bruce,” she whispered into the air.  Her eyes glanced up and she saw that he was staring back at her with distinctly human eyes, chest heaving.  She sensed pain, embarrassment behind them. But moreover, she sensed desire. “Can you snap?” He responded by snapping his left hand, the sound echoing through the sterile room.  She smirked, “Good. If you need me to stop, just snap, okay?” He grunted his response.

 

Confident in her answer, she brought her eyes back to his dick, which was now leaking.  Natasha smiled, and whispered to whomever was listening, “You’re lucky I’m so good at this.”  She stroked a finger up him, starting at the base of his balls and ending at the tip. Swirling her finger in the liquid pooled there, drawing circles and curlicues.  Bruce moaned, and she took it as a hint to gather more in her palm. Sufficiently lubricated, she dragged her hand down his dick, her hand barely reaching all the way around.  His skin was tight, his dick firm. He moved into her touch, and she thought about how uncomfortable and close he must be. She stroked him, twisting her wrist with each movement.

 

Natasha craved more.  The scent of his arousal was intoxicating, and before she realized what she was doing, she was licking lines up his shaft.  Bruce was making noises above her, somewhere between a growl and a whimper. Her hands found his thighs, and she massaged them as her mouth found the head of his hardness.  She cracked her neck, popped her jaw, and willed herself to suppress her gag reflex. Magically, she fit the entire head in her mouth, and did her best to suck. Drool dribbled out of the corner of her mouth, but she was too far gone to care.

 

Somewhere along the line, she tasted the salty-sour-musky flavor that was unique to Bruce.  She was instantly addicted. Her lips found purchase on him, and she sucked as if the last drops of water on Earth were to be found on his dick.  Her thumbs made small circles in his legs. She felt his muscles stiffen and she closed her eyes, ready to feel him fall apart under her.

 

The creature beneath her let out a roar, and she would have worried about the sound traveling if she had been in any other state of mind.  She gripped hold of his thighs as he twitched and bucked into her mouth, spilling more and more of that addictive liquor into her. Once his ministrations had slowed and she could feel him gasp for air, she pulled herself off him slowly, cum dripping from her lips.

 

She looked into his eyes and saw much more humanity in his face.  The wrinkles by his eyes had returned, and something of a grin was blooming on his face.  She winked at him and swallowed his load. He growled something that might have been a word, but was certainly not in a language that she knew.  Satisfied and proud, she leaned forward to lay on his chest, but instead rammed herself into his hard dick.

 

He was still hard.  He had cum and was still hard.  Shit.

 

Natasha realized that this was not going to be a simple process.  She reached both hands around his member and pumped, but Bruce grimaced.  He must be sore, she realized, and the image of him jerking off for hours reappeared in her mind.  Of course, he must have cum several times already, which was the problem. Poor thing. She racked her brain for options, memories, handbooks she had read, anything that could give her an idea of how to get him off less directly.  Her eyes raked over him, and she thought to herself, why not even the playing field.

 

Jumping off the cot, her hands found the hem of her shirt and pulled it off in one swift move.  He was staring at her intently, hunger and anger in his eyes. The look both frightened and excited her.  Thankfully her shorts were a drawstring number, and she slid out of those just as quickly. She hadn’t shaved for a few days and her underwear didn’t match, but she really didn’t care from the way that he looked over her.  Trying to savor the moment but still craving more contact, she shimmied out of her underwear and unclasped her bra, feigning surprise as both fell to the floor.

 

He strained against his restraints, and she realized that his body seemed somewhat smaller than before, although he still dwarfed her slender frame.  Catching his eye, she trailed her hands over her body, stopping to linger on her breasts and the patch of light brown hair between her thighs. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out.  Nonetheless, she understood the call. Bouncing across the room, she leapt back up to the cot and arranged herself so that her legs were straddling his waist. Her own arousal was now dripping out of her and onto his skin, but she couldn’t find the energy to be embarrassed or self-conscious.  Instead she dragged herself along his frame, the dips in his muscles sending shockwaves of pleasure through her.

 

Reaching his face, she place a finger under his chin and pulled him towards her.  Her lips were just inches, fractions of an inch away from him. Her thumb found his lower lip, and she traced the outline of his mouth carefully.  His whole body tensed, and she used the opportunity to grab him tighter with her thighs. Gently, she pressed soft, gentle kisses onto his face, catching lips and cheeks and stubble everywhere she went.  She felt him relax again and, leaning back, noticed that his almost-grin had now become a full smile.

 

It was time.  She glanced over her shoulder and sighed when she saw that his dick hadn’t shrunk like the rest of his body had.  “Oh well,” she told herself, and scooted her way down the length of his body until she was resting against his staff.

 

“Bruce,” she muttered in her most seductive voice, “I’m going to fuck you now.”  He hissed. The sound sent another wave of arousal through her body. Words fell out of her mouth.  “I’m going to fuck you back into yourself, baby.” She promised, “ I’m going to ride that big cock so good you won’t know what to do.”  He groaned to her, a whimper hiding behind it.

 

She readjusted her body and placed his cock at her opening.  She had always been a size queen, and wasn’t ashamed, but this would be a completely different ball game.  Even the head pressed into her walls in a mildly painful, but not wholly unpleasant sensation. Slowly and carefully, she lowered herself onto him, enjoying the stretch as he pushed her past his natural limits.  About halfway down, her body stopped, filled to its natural limit. Never one to turn down a challenge, she turned the position-- ass in the air, half-squatted-- into a sexy stretch. Her hands found his chest, and she twirled the hair in between her fingers, letting the perspective hide the fact that he wasn’t completely inside her.  A knee found purchase on his hip, and she used the angle as leverage to move on top of him.

 

The sensation was instantly magical.  Her body had adjusted to his girth, and she was able to move him in and out of her with ease. Her other knee found his other hip, and she managed to bob her ass in the air, pumping her hips up and down.  She closed her eyes and gave over to the feeling entirely, sensing him fill her completely again and again, reaching her body to its limits. Her eyes popped open when she felt his hips move underneath her, bucking in time with her own movements.  She stilled herself, letting him take over. A wave of pleasure hit her as she felt his pubic bone hit her clit, sending sparks of pleasure through her body. Again it hit, and again and again. She stared between her legs to see him disappearing entirely into her with each thrust, and the knowledge that he was filling her so completely made her ravenous.  She slid into a split and, grabbing his waist, ground her clit into him, chasing the release that she could feel was just around the corner. He ceased his motions, his entire cock sheathed inside her body, and she took over, squeezing his cock and rubbing into him with such ferocity that her voice cracked as she cried out.

 

“Bruce, I’m cumming.”  She shouted, her body acting of its own volition, pushing her over the edge.

 

“Nat,” she heard a gravelly voice reply, and she felt a warm, wet heat between her legs.

 

Suddenly, she felt soft cotton on her back.  She opened her eyes to see Bruce-- actually Bruce-- on top of her, his whole face his own with no trace of green.  He beamed down at her, the pain and anger gone from his eyes. He laid on his elbows, pressing his now-human-sized body into her so his lips could reach her.  He kissed her gently, tenderly, she might even say thankfully if a kiss could be imbued with gratitude.

 

As she came back into her body, she was filled with questions.  She decided on one to start. “Are you okay?”

 

He laughed in his delicate, masculine way.  “I’ve been worse.”

 

“How did I end up here?” She gestured to him, then her, then the bed.

 

“I flipped you over.”  He shrugged. “Super-strength and all that.”

 

“And how did you get out of the restraints?”  She followed up.

 

“So many questions.”  He grinned. “They’re Hulk-sized.  My tiny wrists just slide right out.”  He held up a wrist as if to indicate how small it was.”

 

She grabbed his face and pulled him back down to kiss her.  “I was worried.” She whispered in between kisses. Then, realized that she had admitted too much, she blushed.  He laughed gently, kissing her more forcefully, a hand finding purchase in her hair. She ground her hips up on instinct, and discovered that he was still inside her.  What’s more, he was still quite massive.

 

“Jesus, Banner,” she laughed as he thrust back into her, “Why didn’t you tell me about that Hulk-sized dick.”

 

He looked confused for a moment, then remembered.  “Oh that’s all me.”

 

She tried to sit up, but the movement made his cock hit her at a new angle, which sent her flying back into the cot.  “You’ve ALWAYS had that?” She mentally slapped herself for not making a move sooner.

 

He shrugged.  “I mean, the Other Guy is definitely bigger, but that only grows by about 17% while the rest of my body grows by roughly 65%.”  He punctuated the sentence with a thrust for good measure.

 

Her arms reached around his neck, and she pulled him in for a deeper kiss.  Her hips bucked into him, and she found that he matched the motions evenly, making slow, measured moves as he drove into her.  His mouth found her neck, and he nibbled as she moaned his name, letting the fear and uncertainty give way to only pleasure, only him.  He cried out her name when he came, his body collapsing beside her, spent. He grimaced only a moment as he pulled out of her, and she cleaned them both with the bedsheet long since thrown to the floor.  As she crawled back onto the cot, she took notice of his body again, this time in human form. He was much less muscular, of course, but the smatterings of dark body hair reminded her of his duality. She snuggled up to his chest, breathing in his scent that was quickly becoming her drug of choice.  She smiled at him drowsily, and his hand found the small of her back, pulling her in close. As she drifted off to sleep, she heard him whisper, “Thank you, Nat. I’m glad it was you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading! I have a couple weeks until classes start, and I will gladly take prompts during that time! Enjoy. <3


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